Before The Snow
by Luna-Dara
Summary: Joan gets injured and Sherlock takes it upon himself to take care of her, whether she wants him to or not? JoanLock Fluff


**A/N: Hey, Luna here. First and foremost I would like to say thank you to everyone who followed along with my previous FanFiction! I didn't expect as many people to enjoy it so it was definitely a good surprise.**

**Second, The holiday season is upon us and it has inspired me to write another JoanLock! I have several ideas in the process and this is the one that decided to surface itself. It's more fluff than the last one I wrote ("****_Missing"_****) but I hope that you enjoy it all the same! Please R&R and enjoy!**

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Chapter 1: The Fall Before Winter

P.O.V: Joan Watson

It was getting cold out. Frigid air, and when the wind blows it feels like glass cutting against your skin. Yes, indeed it was getting cold out. Days like this Joan wanted to be back at the brownstone more than ever. To sit in front of a fireplace with a cup of hot tea and a good book to read. But alas, that was not in the foreseeable future. For they were at a crime scene, that was at least indoors. Joan didn't have the attention span for this today.

"Sherlock, listen I have an errand to run. You have it from here right?" Joan asked.

"Of course, though I do not recall you having anything scheduled for today," Sherlock said while holding his suspicions. He saw that Watson was preoccupied otherwise. He had deduced that she would much rather be home today.

"It was last minute."

"Very well then, I shall see you at the brownstone later then yes?"

"Yeah," she said as she started taking off.

Once she was away from the crime scene she pulled out her phone. Looking at it she saw that she had messages from her brother saying that her mother was in the hospital and that it wasn't urgent and had asked if she would mind going in to check on her. So she proceeded to the hospital.

* * *

When she arrived at the hospital she went straight to her mother's room.

"It's nothing really. I think your brother is just being tad over reactive. The doctors said it's just a sprained ankle," Joan's mother said. Joan was quite relieved to hear that it wasn't anything severe. She sat with her mother for half an hour before she left.

She had decided that despite the cold she was going to walk back to the brownstone. She could use some non-Sherlock time. She had been working with him for over a year and a half and she had seen the many different sides of the great Sherlock Holmes. Sometimes he managed to be nice and say the right things at the right times, others he could be an utterly frustrating five year old.

Lost in her musings she did not realize a biker was coming by and almost knocked into her. She managed to see it in time and move out the way. Unfortunately luck was not on her side because her maneuver caused her to slip on black ice. She somehow managed to land on her rear but since she was close to the traffic pole her head managed to make its acquaintance. She sat there for just a moment holding her head which was ringing with pain. And of course, of all the people in New York City, not one stops to see how she's doing. _I knew I should have just stayed home today,_ she thought.

* * *

After some struggle she managed to make it back to the brownstone. The only thing she was thinking of, was to go in and take a shower.

"Watson! Do you know that I left you several text messages asking about your whereabouts, and are you aware of the time?" Sherlock asked as he came storming in from the kitchen. His voice was amplified thanks to her headache. Sherlock – taking note of this gesture – immediately followed up with a different question. "Are you alright Watson?"

"Yeah I'm fine, I just need a shower," she said electing to ignore the first set of questions. She hung up her coat and went upstairs.

* * *

P.O.V: Sherlock Holmes

As he watched his partner go upstairs he took note that she was walking a little odd as well as a spot in the back of her head that looked like the beginnings of mats. This struck him odd because when she had left earlier on her "errand" she did not look that way. She looked the way she always did, somehow stunning. _Get that thought out of your head! _He chastised himself. He was determined to figure this out. _Perhaps her mysterious errand was to see someone? Perhaps their coitus was intense?_ Sherlock thought as his mind began to dabble around the thoughts of Watson being with a man. _Get out! She is a grown woman and allowed to make decisions on her own!_ Sherlock yelled again at himself. These were indeed facts but he could not get the feeling of betrayal out of his system.

He remained there, by the stairs, in a mental battle of what his next actions should be. A part of him wanted to go up there and question her of her outing. He didn't like not knowing, and she was something that he was still trying to figure out. Yet, another part of him knew that it would breach their trust for each other. She did not interrogate him after the incident with her friend Jennifer.

His mind kept circling and circling, unable to come up with a conclusion. At the sound of Watson approaching the stairs he decided to go back to the kitchen and finish up looking at his case files that he had. He re-seated himself in his chair and feigned looking at the papers before him. When he saw her come in the kitchen, her hair was fixed but she still had an odd walk. Without a word she just walked in and went straight for the freezer.

"How was your outing Watson?" Sherlock decided to ask first. Seeing as she was not talking.

"Adventurous," she said sarcastically with a touch of a humorless laugh. She pulls out a frozen package of vegetables. She leaned against the counter and put it to the back of her head.

"You hurt yourself," Sherlock said rather than asked. Now things made sense, the mat must have been blood. And her odd walk must be from the fall.

"Black ice, I slipped and fell and became acquainted with the traffic pole. It's nothing really," she said as she maneuvered to make herself some tea. While watching her, the tinniest sliver of worry started to faintly grow inside of him.

"Do you require anything?" he asked. His fingers were drumming on his lap. He was debating of whether or not he should take over the preparations of the tea or not. He decided to wash out a mug for her, since he was sure that there were none. Watson glanced over at him.

"If you want some you should wash out an extra mug," she said. Sherlock decided that he would have some and so washed out an extra mug. She was still leaning against the counter holding the vegetables to her head.

"Wouldn't you much rather sit at the table?" he asked.

"If I do, I'm sure I'll fall asleep."

"May I assume that it is not a concussion? Your pupils do not seem dilated and you don't seem to be dizzy unless you are using the counter to support you in that respect," Sherlock said carefully studying her.

"Yeah, no I'm fine. I'm just going to make the tea and go upstairs," she said. They stood in silence. "I did check my phone when I got upstairs and saw all the messages you left. I missed them before because my phone was on silent."

"And you didn't think to get it when you fell and hit your head?" Sherlock asked, a bit annoyed by her action or lack of in this case. She took a deep breath before answering.

"No Sherlock, I didn't think of it. I knew I would be able to make it back to the brownstone and along the way all I thought about was how much pain I was in."

"If there is anything you should need for the next twenty-four hours then I am at your disposal."

"I don't think that will be necessary Sherlock."

"You don't necessarily have to act upon it, just know that if there is anything I shall be here. I read that in most head trauma situations you should at least have someone nearby to assist you if you need it. Also, I read that you shouldn't be eating or drinking for roughly twelve hours," Sherlock said as he reached over to turn off the stove.

"Sherlock, I said I was fine," Watson said as she reached over to try to turn it back on. He reached for her wrist to stop her.

"Watson, I insist that you go upstairs and get some rest," he said in a rather soft voice. She sighed in annoyance and reluctance.

"I'm _supposed_ to avoid stressful situations and work also," she said as she walked away from him.


End file.
